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First published 1938, this irreverent novel about Fleet Street and its hectic pursuit of hot news figures among so many astute readers' favorite novels, I have no hesitation listing it as mine. Waugh strikes to heart of tabloid journalism, so this gem reads as hilariously relevant today as when it first took literary London by storm.
Shy William Boot writes the Lush Places country column for the Daily Beast, ruled over by the terrifying Lord Copper whose word none of his employees dares even cast doubt on: when Copper is right, the response is "Definitely, Lord Copper", when wrong ("What's the capital of Japan? Yokohama, isn't it?"), it's "Up to a point, Lord Copper."
Boot's style is distinctly bucolic - "Feather-footed through the plushy fen passes the questing vole .." - so it's a bit of a shock when a case of mistaken identity has him chosen to cover the civil war in the African Republic of Ishmaelia.
So off he goes, furnished with all mod cons of a war correspondent including a cleft stick for despatches, and through hilarious good luck and some help from a wily politico, proceeds to report a non-existent war in exactly the lurid tones that Copper wants.
To describe more would tempt me to quote direct from the pages of this slim work of genius and I'd not know where to stop. If you haven't yet got this under your belt, you have a duty - and a real treat in store.
